


Enough Is Not The Same It Was Before

by fuladaris



Series: Carnival of Rust [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, M/M, Rough Sex, Songfic, Title from a Poets of the Fall Song, like this one is so much angstier than the other fic in this series, poets of the fall - Freeform, relationship troubles, these two are a mess honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuladaris/pseuds/fuladaris
Summary: "Do I still make you happy?" Augustine whispers, as he and Lysandre lie with their backs to each other in the dark.
Relationships: Fleur-de-lis | Lysandre/Platane-hakase | Professor Augustine Sycamore
Series: Carnival of Rust [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136795
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Enough Is Not The Same It Was Before

**Author's Note:**

> The second of two one-shots I've written that were inspired by lyrics from the song "Carnival of Rust" by Poets of The Fall, because the song fits two of my OTPs for different reasons. Unlike other works of mine, the fics in this collection were not posted on tumblr (although I did make a post on my blogs about how I posted new fics here, I did not post the texts of the fics themselves).

**_"It's all a game, avoiding failure when true colors will bleed -_ **   
**_All in the name of misbehavior, and the things we don't need._ **   
**_I lust for after; no disaster can touch, touch us anymore -_ **   
**_And, more than ever, I hope to never fall_ **   
**_Where enough is not the same it was before."_ **

"Do I still make you happy?" Augustine whispers, as he and Lysandre lie with their backs to each other in the dark. 

"The happiest," Lysandre quips, and Augustine sobs, because in the past, when they'd do this routine, Lysandre would hold him, or kiss him, or pet him, or do _something_ to imply he _meant it_. Not this. Not this - turning away as soon as their heads hit the pillow, not this lying close to each other without touching or even _looking_ at each other, as if they're a thousand miles away, as if some wall has been built between them, as if they're just performing for each other without meaning it.

As if they're actors in a show.

As if their relationship is falling apart.

_As if - as if I'm losing him._

Allowing this thought - so carefully contained, all this time - to breach the surface of his mind breaks Augustine further, and he sobs, and sobs, and sobs, doesn't even _realize_ Lysandre has rolled over to face him, or that Lysandre is rolling _him_ over, too, or register that Lysandre is speaking to him, until he hears a heavy sigh, and the light clicks on.

"I asked what was wrong, Augustine." To his credit, at least, Lysandre looks more concerned than exasperated, and Augustine can actually believe that his worry _is_ genuine. But, still, the professor shakes his head - uselessly, uselessly - just reaches out for his partner, begging to be held, to be acknowledged, to be loved the way he used to be. 

He doesn't know if Lysandre shutting the light off again before wrapping him in his arms is an insult or not.

" _Mon pauvre,_ " the older man purrs, stroking one hand through the professor's hair. "Oh, Augustine, what is making you so miserable, hmm? You don't seem happy yourself..."

How can he answer? How can he explain that he senses something terrible brewing between them, that there's this darkness growing in Lysandre, growing stronger every day, a darkness so forbidding and foreboding that Lysandre is now more a stranger to him than he had been the very day they first met? What can he say that would capture all of that without breaking them, without taking their relationship - the one thing that makes more sense to Augustine than his own research, or at least used to - and revealing it for the crumbling pillar it was?

"I don't want to lose you," he finally chokes out, head buried in Lysandre's chest. "I don't want to _lose you-_ "

"And who said you were going to?" Lysandre consoles, but there's a pained note in his voice, and Augustine doesn't like that. "Did _I_ say you were going to?"

"N-No-"

"Then why think it? I'm not going anywhere, you're not going anywhere - so why is this troubling you?" But Lysandre's voice has a catch in it, still, and Augustine's lips crash against his, trying to swallow that sound, that awful sound, that hint of an end, and Lysandre returns that kiss, just as frantic, just as devastated. They stay like that for a long while, not talking about the weight of Augustine's fears, focused entirely on kissing and touching in the dark, erratic and desperate and frenzied motions, as if the end of the world is coming for them.

It's when Lysandre's hand slides down between Augustine's thighs and squeezes that Augustine breaks away with a gasp. "Wait- Will you- The light-"

And so Lysandre fucks him hard with the lights on, their eyes locked on each other's, their rhythm and movements no less erratic than before, and still Augustine rolls his hips up to meet him, moans out a "Yes, yes, you do, you do," whenever Lysandre growls "Do I make you happy, Professor?" or "Oh, how I love you, Professor," and Augustine just plain moans, moans and obeys when Lysandre groans "Come for me _now_ , Professor" in his ear.

This time, as they curl around each other, Lysandre doesn't reach to shut the light off.

"You make me so happy," Lysandre sighs, pressing kisses to his partner's lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, temples - wherever he can reach, Augustine returning whichever ones catch his lips. "You really do. You must believe me, when I tell you that you do."

"I-I do. I do - I do believe you, Lys."

"I am just - troubled, with work. There are things in this world that plague me, and I'm afraid they consume my thoughts."

"Won't you tell me what they are? Let me help you..."

"You help me enough just by being here, Augustine." He kisses him again, chastely, this time. "You must not let yourself forget that. I've been - distant, from you, but it is not because I love you any less than I used to. You must forgive me, when I get like this."

"And is it necessary for you _to_ get like that?" Augustine asks, hesitantly, carefully, lest his concern shatter this tender intimacy they've finally - somehow - found between them again. "Can't you - can't you rely on me? The way you used to?"

There is a long pause, too long a pause, a pause that continues even as Lysandre reaches to shut the light - _that stupid, stupid light, keep it on, keep it on, god damn it, face me like a man when you're breaking my heart, Lysandre_ \- a pause that continues even as Augustine begins to weep again, Lysandre's hands automatically threading through the professor's hair and stroking down his back as he cries.

"The world is changing," Lysandre whispers, hoarsely, and it is only then that Augustine realizes Lysandre is crying, too, but far less openly, far less pathetically. "And I am afraid that - that there is too much I must do to fix it, more than I can rely on you for. More than I wish to see your shoulders carry."

"But - But I'm here, aren't I? I _want_ to carry this burden with you."

"I know you do, but - I am afraid that what we want to do and what we are actually capable of...They are not always the same for all of us, Augustine."

A cold, cold pit settles in the bottom of Augustine's stomach. "This is - this is not you - breaking up with me- even after what just-"

" _No_. No, of course not - I said I was not going anywhere, and I meant it."

This was another of Lysandre's lies, of course, lies Augustine would think about often mere months later, when Lysandre lay dead and buried under hundreds of tons of rubble in a crater in Geosenge Town, a crater and tomb Lysandre himself had created when he'd decided that the best way to preserve the world was to destroy it, when Augustine ceased to be enough to save him in any capacity. Still, though, in this moment, when Lysandre kisses him on the lips, and whispers "You are the most beautiful thing in this world, Augustine. I need you in my life, otherwise I find it so very devoid of beauty and meaning-"

Augustine believes him.

**_( "Don't walk away, when the world is burning." )_ **


End file.
